


Everyday is Christmas

by tsvtrying (eveofjune)



Series: Merry Christmas, tsvtwt [3]
Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food, Homemade Food, Implications of Sexual Content, M/M, Tang Yuan making, Winter Solstice, very very very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveofjune/pseuds/tsvtrying
Summary: day 3 of my christmas giftset to tsvtwt
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Merry Christmas, tsvtwt [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059164
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Everyday is Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shostyhoevich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shostyhoevich/gifts).



> extremely late today, so it's a double update to compensate!! woo!!
> 
> translations/explanations:  
>  _tang yuan_ : 汤圆 tang1 yuan2, glutinous rice balls eaten with soup on winter solstice  
> Winter solstice/冬至 dong1 zhi4: the shortest day of the year for the northern hemisphere, celebrated by eating tang yuan  
>  _cuo_ : 搓 cuo1, to knead  
>  _Da gai da gai jiu hao_ : 大概大概就好 da4 gai4 da4 gai4 jiu4 hao3, (rough translation) just estimate

_ for lynn _

**Everyday is Christmas**

_ 21 December 2018 _

"Does it ever bother you?"

"What does?" Brett looks up from his computer, where he's typing an email to send to their team manager. 

"That we never get to see a white Christmas?" Eddy says, leaning back in his chair. "We're always either in Singapore or Australia, and it never snows." 

"That's not true," Brett replies. "We were in Helsinki that one year for Christmas, on our tour, don't you remember? And why do you need snow for Christmas anyway?" he asks, amused. 

Eddy sighs. "I don't but… it would be nice, you know? For the vibe and aesthetic." 

Brett looks at him oddly. "I have never heard you use the word vibe or aesthetic like that in all my twelve years of knowing you. Who are you and what have you done with the real Eddy Chen?" 

Eddy kicks him under the table. "Nevermind. Ignore whatever I said." He gets up from the dining table leaving Brett confused as to what he said wrong. 

* * *

_ I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  _

_ With every Christmas card I write  _

_ May your days be merry and bright  _

_ And may all your Christmases be white _

* * *

__ "Eddy?" Brett pushes the door open to their shared bedroom. 

"Here to mock my wishful fantasies again, aren't you?" Eddy bites back. 

Brett rolls his eyes. " _ No,  _ I was bringing you  _ tang yuan _ . Happy winter solstice." He presses a bowl of glutinous rice balls into Eddy's hands. 

He watches tentatively as Eddy takes a bite, chews slowly, and swallows. 

"Where did you buy these?" He says finally. "They're too hard and chewy."

"I made them," Brett answers quietly, and Eddy softens. 

"These aren't half bad, they just need to be kneaded a bit more. Come on, I'll teach you how to make them." 

"Do you really think I'm going to take cooking advice from you?" Brett retorts, following Eddy into the kitchen anyway. "You can't even cook fried rice." 

"Well I may not be able to cook, but I know how to make  _ tang yuan _ . My  _ nai nai  _ taught me and Belle how to make them when we were younger." He pulls food colouring and glutinous rice flour from the cupboard, and fills a glass with warm water. 

Brett isn't really listening, he's staring at Eddy's hands. He watches them set the ingredients down on their dining table, and then pull 3 bowls from that rack that Brett can never reach on his own. 

"See, the trick to good _tang yuan,_ the ones that are nice and soft," Eddy says, shaking a handful of flour into the biggest bowl. "Is to knead the flour a lot. _Nai nai_ used to have us _cuo_ the flour for a good ten minutes, and they would come out perfect." He pours a little bit of water into the bowl, tossing the flour over it. He slowly adds more and more water until the flour clumps together and forms a nice dough. 

"You see the thing about Asian family recipes, is that they don't really have exact quantities. You just add what feels right, and adjust from there. Belle tried to write down one of  _ Nai nai's  _ recipes once, it nearly drove her mad. Every time she asked just how much of a certain ingredient was needed,  _ Nai nai  _ would only reply, ' _ Da gai da gai jiu hao. _ ' or until a certain thing boiled or changed colour. You really use benchmarks rather than measurements."

Brett hums in agreement, trying to pay attention, but he's again mesmerised by Eddy's long fingers, pressing into the dough, folding it over and over, until all the flour sticks together. 

"Now the benchmark for this one," Eddy mutters, pressing the lump of dough to the sides of the bowl, sticking up the excess flour. "Is when the flour can be cleaned off the bowl…" he pulls it off his fingers. "... and it doesn't stick to your fingers." 

"Alright Brett I need your help now." 

Brett shakes his head, snapping out of his daze. "Yeah? With what?" 

Eddy separates the lump of dough into 3 balls of roughly the same size, and puts them into different bowls. He drips red food colouring into one, and yellow into another. He slides the yellow bowl across the table to Brett. " _ Cuo. _ " 

Brett pushes his fingers into the dough, mixing the food colouring into it. It turns a nice orange colour, and he turns to Eddy. "Now what?" 

" _ Cuo la.  _ Keep kneading it." 

"Oh. Oh okay." He's a little out of it, but he's lucky Eddy doesn't notice. 

They lapse into silence, and Brett actually starts getting worried. He stops kneading his lump of dough and wipes his hands on his shirt, a bad kitchen habit he's never been able to break.

Brett wraps his arms around Eddy from behind, leaning his head on his back. "Are you still angry at me?" 

Eddy feels the seam of his pulse lose a stitch. He turns in Brett's arms and gives him a kiss on his forehead, nose and lips.

"Never," He murmurs against Brett's lips. 

* * *

_ Candy canes and mistletoe _

_ Jack Frost nipping at your nose _

_ But all of it means nothing _

_ Without you _

* * *

"Eddy you dick!" Brett yells, tossing a handful of flour at him. 

His boyfriend only screams in laughter, running further and further away from him. 

There is flour everywhere: the counter, the tabletop, the floor; in Eddy's hair, on Eddy's face, and the one that started it all, caked into the back of Brett's shirt, put there by Eddy's roaming hands. 

The  _ tang yuan  _ have already been kneaded to Eddy's satisfaction, though it took more than 10 minutes, given the amount of time they spent distracted by  _ other activities.  _ They're rolled into small balls, lined up in a row on their kitchen countertop, while a pot of soup boils on the stove. 

Brett had realised Eddy had made use of their impromptu make out session to promptly clean his floury, doughy hands on the back of his favourite hoodie. On pretense of clearing up the kitchen, he'd flung a handful of flour at his boyfriend, inciting war. 

Brett's chasing Eddy around the entire house now, but he hasn't even come close to catching him. "Fuck you, Eddy," Brett pants, giving up. "You better do the laundry and get this stain off." 

Eddy leans against the kitchen counter, smirking, not even the least bit winded. "Relax, babe, it's just flour. It'll come off." 

"It better," Brett mutters, and the water on the stove boils. Eddy opens the pot, and the smell of pandan fills the house. He plops the  _ tang yuan  _ one by one into the pot, and then shuts it again, but the smell of the soup still lingers. 

He turns away from the stove, and he's immediately pressed back against the wall. Brett's shorter than him, but he can be strong when he wants to. 

"You fucker," Brett hisses, biting a spot on Eddy's neck. Eddy moans softly, shutting the kitchen door with his foot. 

* * *

_ It's not Christmas (Christmas) _

_ Without you, you, you _

_ It's not Christmas _

_ Without you, you, you  _

* * *

They're wrapped in a cocoon of time and blankets, and where there's no one but them, surrounded by darkness. 

Brett wakes up holding Eddy. "Eddy," he breathes into his ear. 

He's half asleep. "Hmm?" 

"Do you know why I don't need snow for Christmas?" 

Eddy groans. "Not this again—" 

"No this is for real. Do you know why?" 

His boyfriend sighs painstakingly. " _ Why? _ " 

"Because everyday feels like Christmas, when I'm with you." 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm so so sooooo sorry for this extremely late update, i was busy actually making tang yuan haha. i hope u enjoyed this hopefully fluffy chapter, because we're going on an angsty ride tonight oops.
> 
> until then, Happy Winter Solstice! 冬至快乐!
> 
> to lynn, my solemate:  
> this is not the best i've written, but i don't know how to make it better. i'll send feet pics if u don't think it's good enough (bc i certainly think so). i thank yuelao for u everyday haha


End file.
